3 25 - Cheating
by Galaxy-Defending-Hopeful
Summary: 3/25 on a prompt table. The prompt was 'cheating'. Danny cheats on his French exam, leading to a series of detentions...with a very cute, very funny Year 9. Not really slash, swearing, implied neglect.


'Cheating'

Danny stared at the test paper in front of him, completely bewildered. It was his final French GCSE exam, and he understood about three words on it – Bonjour, et and mais. That was it. He knew he should have studied harder, and guilt plucked at him, but it was too late for that now. Right now, he had an hour and a half to answer the questions on the paper and he understood nothing. Thank god the instructions were in English – '_Translate the question to English in the space provided (up to two marks per translation) and then answer the questions in fluent French, using correct spelling and grammar (up to ten marks per question)'. _He glanced up – the invigilators were all across the hall. The desks were only about a foot apart. If he leant down to grab his water bottle...Danny shook his head. It was an exam. He couldn't cheat...could he? Glancing once more at the excruciating paper, and the adults across the room, the decision was made. Seconds later, he was scribbling down an answer.

* * *

"Can Danny Jones go the headmaster's office, please?" the skinny, knock-kneed prefect asked. Danny shook himself from his sleepy state and glanced around – what?

"Go on, Danny." his teacher said, pointing towards the door.

"Do I need my bag?" he asked. The prefect shrugged, so Danny put it on anyway, and walked out. Nerves were creeping up inside of him. You only got called to see the headmaster if you were in serious trouble, or if you'd done something worth a headmaster's merit (essentially just a certificate, awarded for excellent behaviour or very good grades). His grades were average and his behaviour was poor, so he was 99% certain that he was in trouble. What for, though? Perhaps Mr Drew knew that it was him who had been smoking in the loo's last week, or maybe he even knew about Danny skipping Maths to snog Krissie Davies in the girls changing rooms just the day before. Guilt for crimes long forgotten filled him until he finally reached the ominous blue door. Knocking, the harsh voice shouted,

"Come in!"

* * *

The headmaster was sat at his desk, and in front of it another boy was sat. He looked like he was a Year 9, and he looked very, very frightened.

"Jones, sit down. Now, you two. You've been cheating, and don't try and deny it – your answers were exactly the same as those belonging to the person beside you in your exams. French for you, Jones, and Maths for you, Poynter."

Danny glanced at 'Poynter', and saw how very pale he was.

"However, we as a school cannot afford to have another student marked off in all exams and graded U in everything – it would be too damaging to our statistics."

A smile played on Danny's lips – they were going to get away with cheating because the school was doing crappily and couldn't afford to get even worse.

"So, we have had your particular test papers 'accidentally' mixed in the wrong box so that the same person won't mark the two sets of identical papers. This means that you will be graded on the work that you copied, and you will get your results as if you had never cheated."

'Poynter' audibly sighed with relief.

"Don't think you're getting away with it, though! I'm assigning you both detention every night for two weeks, starting tomorrow."

At that, 'Poynter' angrily exclaimed, "You can't do that! My dad'll kill me!"

The headmaster glared at the younger boy, and he went very red and quiet.

"You can both go, now. I'll send the detention slips around to your classrooms at one point later."

* * *

"You, going to a homework club?" snorted Danny's father derisively. "That'll be the day."

Danny threw his bag down in the hall, shrugged off his blazer, untucked his shirt and loosened his tie, sighing with relief.

"It's just for a couple of weeks, to get my grades up. There's only a couple of other kids going."

"You need it. Your grades are shit, Danny."

Danny ignored the words, as he had done for so long, and wandered into the kitchen to grab a drink. He didn't feel guilty about his lie, not at all – it protected his mother from finding out her son was a bad person, and himself from his father's cruel words. Downing a glass of water, he quietly opened the fridge, selected a can of beer from the back, shoved it up his shirt to his armpit and clamped his arm down. He managed to get upstairs without it being seen, where he drank it in one go. He needed it, after that day.

* * *

Room 9. A room specially put aside for detentions, but rarely used – teachers usually preferred to have kids in their own rooms, so that they could keep an eye on them for the twenty, thirty, sixty or ninety extra minutes. It was a fairly grim room – a whiteboard, no window, an old, flickery light, a teacher's desk and five desks, all placed next to each other at the front of the room. When Danny arrived, he was pleased to see Mr Coleman, a substitute teacher, sitting at the front. Having a substitute for detention was good as they generally let you talk as long as you were quite quiet. Entering the room, he flung himself down at a desk.

"Who are you?"

"Danny Jones."

The old man glanced down at the list. "Ah yes, one of the cheaters. Well, you and Poynter are the only people here tonight, so make yourself comfy."

Danny stretched out on the chair, throwing his legs onto the small desk and leaning back. He might even be able to get an hour's sleep in if he got off soon. However, all too quickly, a door slammed open, startling him. There stood Poynter, red-faced.

"Sorry I'm late, sir, I was kept back in English..."

"Sit down. I take it you're Dougie?"

He nodded. Danny smiled. Dougie Poynter. Nice name.

* * *

Dougie was actually pretty cool. He was from Basildon in Essex, and was here on a year long exchange program. The exam was a GCSE one but would count for nothing once he got home because his school started GCSE's in Year 10 rather than Year 9. Therefore, he would essentially end up repeating all the work. He loved Blink 1-82, and had about a million lizards.

"What about you, Danny?" Dougie asked. "Favourite musician?"

"Bruce Springsteen, by far!"

"Cool, I like him as well!"

The discussion lasted for the full sixty minutes – the two were quite engrossed in their conversation when the teacher told them to clear off.

"Dougie, I eat lunch by the PE changing rooms – do you want to come and join me and my mates tomorrow?"

Dougie nodded. The two parted, and Dougie was filled with a warm happiness. Best result from cheating ever!


End file.
